


Attack of the Vicious Plot Bunnies

by startraveller776



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Parody, Ridiculous, Satire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 19:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20551667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startraveller776/pseuds/startraveller776
Summary: Eight years later, Jareth demands a rematch. Can Sarah get to the center of the Labyrinth in time to save her neighbor’s cat?





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [undergrounddaydreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/undergrounddaydreams/gifts).

> Initially written for undergrounddaydreams. Beta’d by Surelady.

There was nothing better, in Sarah’s estimation, than getting home from a tedious day of work as an office administrator and discovering her neighbor’s cat had gotten into her apartment again. And puked on her bed. Again.

Sarah let out a groan of frustration. That feline was the spawn of Satan. If Sarah hadn’t had a secret crush on the kitty’s daddy, she would have found a way to make the creature disappear long ago.

Chris Henson was tall, built like Adonis, olive-skinned with grey eyes and dark, wavy hair. Sarah wondered why he’d never hit on her. _Every_ guy hit on her. Chris, on the other hand, apparently thought her showing up in a negligée to borrow a can of whipped cream was typical neighborly behavior. Next time, she’d have to try the naked-under-the-trench-coat scheme. The guy couldn’t be _that_ dense.

Sarah stared at the offending upchuck. All she wanted to do was curl up with her worn copy of _The Immortal Highlander_ while noshing on an enormous chocolate bar slathered with whipped cream. But that wasn’t going to happen now, thanks to Evil Cat. Pulling the blankets from her bed, Sarah imagined several ways to off the sucker when something on her vanity caught her eye.

A small scroll made of yellowed parchment sat in the center of the clutter. Sarah dropped the bedding to the floor and picked up the paper, unrolling it. She murmured under her breath as she read the fancy calligraphy.

“Here is the day you hoped would never come.”

Suddenly the lights dimmed, and with a flash, a white feather and a glowing crystal appeared on her vanity, casting ominous shadows on Sarah’s face. She stepped back.

“Ho-kay,” she said, rubbing the goosebumps on her arms. “That’s creepy.”

“I know. Magnificent, isn’t it?”

Sarah whirled to find the Goblin King leaning against her doorframe. He flashed a pointed-tooth grin. “It’s one of my better entrances.”

He stepped toward her, bedecked in his black armor and tattered cloak. Sarah’s eyes involuntarily traveled from his handsome, sharp-angled face down his chest to his skin-tight breeches. She lingered a moment too long on the swollen bulge of his generous manhood.

“Dear me, Sarah,” Jareth said with a smirk. “Is your internal narrator a romance novelist?”

Sarah flushed, her head snapping up. “Blushing! I’m blushing not flushing!”

“Really?” Jareth raised a brow. “It certainly looked like you were flushing.”

She glared back at him. “What are you doing here? I didn’t summon you.”

He gave her a cheeky smile. “Oh, you didn’t?”

“Let me think.” Sarah tapped her chin. “Did I wish away any annoying little brothers?” She leveled her gaze at Jareth. “Nope.”

He shrugged. “I knew that, of course. I was merely testing your mortal memory.” He sniffed, his face pinching in disgust. “What is that dreadful smell?”

“Cat puke.” Sarah gestured toward the blankets on the floor.

“Ah.” He glanced at the bedding. “That aroma is slightly less revolting than the Bog.” He waved his hand. “But that is neither here nor there. I’ve come to tell you your cat is mine now.”

Sarah blinked at him. Jareth had stolen Chris’s cat? He had done her a huge favor, but Sarah suspected that hadn’t been his intention.

He mistook her silence, pacing around her. “What? No pleas of mercy? No begging to get your beloved pet back? No—” He stopped abruptly, looking down at his boot. “Oh, gods. I’ve stepped in it. I’ve stepped in the vomit.”

Sarah bit her lip to keep from snickering as he staggered back to her stripped bed.

“Well,” he snapped, “don’t just stand there! Get it off!”

Sarah laughed. Surely he wasn’t asking her to clean the stinking chunks off his shoe? He stared at her expectantly, holding up his leg. He was. He totally was! Her laughter cut off. “Oh, you’re serious.” She rolled her eyes. “Um, no.”

He scowled. “Fine.” With the wave, his heeled boot was pristine again. “Now back to the matter at hand,” he said, standing and raising his hand. “I’ve brought you a gift.”

A swirl of glitter rested on his palm and dissolved into a fluffy ball of white fur.

“A bunny?” Sarah stared at him with a canted brow.

“Yes. It’s a bunny, nothing more. But if you turn it this way and look into its eyes, it will show you the plot of this story. But this is no ordinary gift for a woman who takes care of a retching feline.” He held it toward her. “Do you want it?”

Sarah hardly heard his words, mesmerized instead by the bunny’s quivering nose.

Jareth continued, “Then forget a—”

“Does it puke on things?”

“—bout the cat. What?”

Sarah tore her eyes away from the bunny. “Does the rabbit puke on things?”

Jareth frowned. “I don’t believe so, no.”

“Deal!” Sarah reached for the furball. “You can keep the cat. I’ll take the bunny.” Chris would forgive her as soon as he laid eyes on the rabbit.

Jareth pulled the bunny to his chest, out of reach. “That’s not the way it is done!” he sputtered.

“It is now.” She stalked closer to him. “Give me the bunny.”

He backed away, indignation twisting his beautiful features. “No. Most emphatically _no_! This is not how things are done!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too times infinity!”

“Is not times infinity plus one!”

Sarah scoffed. “You can’t add to infinity. It’s already infinite!”

“I am the Goblin King.” Jareth gave her an exasperated glare. “I can reorder mathematics to suit my whims.”

Sarah crossed her arms. “In that case: ‘Is too times infinity plus infinity!’”

“Don’t be childish, Sarah.” Jareth snorted. “You can’t add infinity to infinity. It’s forbidden.”

“Oh, yeah? By who?”

He raised his free hand to his chest. “Myself, of course.” When she started to argue, he pressed his fingers against her lips. “Shh, precious. I know my omnipotence is difficult for your little mortal brain to comprehend, but we must conduct our business before this opening scene gets bogged down by schoolyard arguments.”

Sarah batted his hand away. “What business?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Have you not been paying attention? Must I draw a diagram for you?” With a flick of his wrist, a large, floating whiteboard appeared next to him. With a marker, he drew an indecipherable doodle. “First, your cat was wished away—”

“Hold on, Goblin King. Three things.” Sarah ticked off her fingers as she spoke. “One, the cat isn’t mine. Two, who wished it away? And three, that”—she pointed to his drawing—“looks like a blob.”

Jareth narrowed his eyes. “I have three things in return. One, the cat was in your house, so you can see how I might have assumed it belonged to you. Two, I wished it away. And three,” he said, waving a hand over the doodle, “it’s a cat. See the ears and tail?”

Sarah shook her head. “Where are the whiskers?”

Jareth growled, slashing quick lines on the blob with his marker. “Satisfied? Can we get back to the point?”

Sarah cocked her head, squinting. If she blurred her vision, she could see a Picaso-like resemblance to a cat. “I guess.”

“Oh, good.” He raised his eyes heavenward and sighed. “First, the cat—which may or may not be yours—was stolen by me. Next, I offered you a bunny.” He drew another blobby thing on the board.

“Now, that looks more like a cat.”

Jareth squeezed his eyes shut with a groan. “It’s. A. Bunny!” He held up the rabbit in his hand. “See? A bunny.”

“Maybe if had some bunny teeth?”

“No! This is getting us nowhere.” He made the whiteboard vanish. “I begin to wonder if you’re obtuse by design, or if I’ve greatly overestimated your intelligence.”

Sarah balked, but he covered her mouth.

“Please refrain from interrupting. The readers would like to get to the more interesting parts of this story,” Jareth said.

“But—”

“Seriously. Shut it.” He stared her down for a few seconds. “Now, where was I? Oh, yes. I offered you the bunny and you were not supposed to take it.”

“Why not?” Sarah certainly didn’t want the cat back.

“Why not?” Jareth stared at her as if she’d sprouted a third eye. “Because it could be a trick! You don’t know me. I could be the Devil Incarnate!” He shook his head. “Has your mother never taught you about stranger danger?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Of course I know you. You’re the villain from my childhood.”

“Exactly my point!” He threw his free hand in the air. “Why would you take a rabbit from me? Have you learned nothing from the peach incident?!”

Sarah’s eyes darted to the bunny then back to Jareth. “But it’s so cuuuuuute!” She reached for it again.

“Good gods, that decibel is inhuman!” He winced. “Fine. Fine! If I give you the rabbit, will you run my Labyrinth?”

“You want me to run the Labyrinth again?”

“By law, every eight years I have the right to demand a rematch. I’m exercising that right.” His expression changed to a leer. “Although, I am perfectly amenable to compromise if you would prefer to skip straight to the celebratory sex.”

Sarah snorted. “With you?”

“Certainly not with your gay neighbor.” Jareth raised a brow. “Though, I do see why you find him alluring. He is quite delectable.”

“He’s not—!” Sarah’s mouth snapped shut as understanding dawned on her. “Oh. _Oh_! That explains so much.” Chris’s incredible fashion sense. His all-male sleepovers. His propensity to kiss other men when he was drunk. That was the reason why he hadn’t thrown himself at Sarah. Of course!

Sarah gave Jareth an appraising look. He had impeccable style. And at the masquerade, he seemed to have very little interest in the women around him. And he’d just called Chris delectable.

“Are _you_ gay?” she asked.

“At the moment, no.” Jareth grinned. It was disturbingly predatory. “But I can pretend to be if you’d like to attempt to convert me. I’d let you attempt all night long. You might even succeed.”

“Ew. No.” She shivered. Not because she found the idea arousing. Not in the least. Nope. Nuh uh. “I’ll run the Labyrinth—if it means I can keep the bunny.”

Jareth ground his teeth. “Bunny this. Bunny that. I offer you my glorious body, and all you can think about is the bloody rabbit!”

“I can’t help it,” she said with a shrug. “I mean, just look at it.”

Jareth studied the creature. “It is quite adorable, isn’t it?” His voice went up several octaves as he pet it. “What a wittle thing you are, all soft fur and pretty eyes. You are the cutest wittle bunny, aren’t you? Yes, you are. Yes, you—”

Sarah, insanely jealous, snatched the rabbit from him. Jareth’s head snapped up, glowering as his mismatched eyes cleared.

“That thing,” he said, breathless as if he’d gone several rounds with a demon and barely survived, “is positively diabolical.” He inspected his gloved hands. “I had no idea I was capable of creating something so wicked.”

Sarah gave Jareth a dirty look before turning back to the bunny. “Don’t listen to him, Freddie. You are the sweetest bunny rabbit ever.”

“Freddie?” Jareth frowned. “I was going to call him Jareth.”

“You want to call everyone Jareth.”

“It would make remembering names infinitely easier. Oh look, my Labyrinth.” Jareth gave Sarah a sardonic grin. “It seems our author has decided to hurry things along.”

They stood on the hilltop where she had started her journey eight years before. Sarah surveyed the maze below, the same as she had remembered. “She’s not exactly smooth with transitions, is she?”

“Or originality. She could have started things in the fiery wood, just to be different from every other fan fiction writer.” He sighed. “But no, the same spot. Every time.”

“Not to mention the plot of making me run the Labyrinth again.” Sarah gave him an exaggerated eyeroll. “Because _that_ never gets old.”

“I don’t find that quite so troublesome, myself.” Jareth smirked. “Sometimes, I actually defeat you in those tales... And there’s the clock.” A cuckoo clock appeared over his shoulder, chiming the hour with annoying chirping. He scowled. “Message received. Getting on with it.”

Jareth turned to Sarah, puffing out his chest, hands at his hips. “You have four hours in which to solve the Labyrinth, before the cat becomes one of us forever—and I take you to my bed to prove how not-gay, at the moment, I am.” He started to fade away.

“Hey!” Sarah yelled. “Four hours? I had thirteen last time!”

Jareth solidified. “This time, I plan to win. That, and our author is attempting to keep this story a oneshot. She will fail spectacularly, just as you will fail to reach the castle in time.”

He began to dissipate again, but flickered back. “And regarding the care of your fine furry friend, there are two rules you need to remember. First, never get the rabbit wet. Second…” He trailed off as his brow furrowed. “You know, I can’t remember the second rule. Something to do with its diet.” He shrugged. “Oh, well. It must not have been important.” He disappeared in a cloud of glitter.

Sarah nuzzled her bunny. “Come on, Freddie. Let’s go kick some Goblin King ass.”

* * *

“Well, look who it is.”

Sarah found Hoggle, Sir Didymus, Ludo and Ambrosius sitting at a poker table just outside of the Labyrinth. The dwarf tried to keep his expression surly as he greeted her, but he couldn’t quite hide the happy gleam in his eyes.

“My lady,” Didymus said, attempting a flourishing bow from his seat.

“Sawah!” Ludo stood, knocking over the table, sending cards and chips flying.

“Argh! You clumsy monster!” Hoggle yelled. “I was winning!”

Sarah giggled. “What are you all doing here? No,” she said when Hoggle tried to answer, “let me guess. The author decided to speed things up by having you all here waiting for me, instead of me trying to search you out in the Labyrinth.”

The four exchanged looks—yes, even Ambrosius.

“Uh, no.” Hoggle shook his head. “We meet here every Friday for poker.”

“Oh.” Sarah shrugged. “Well, that’s convenient.”

“Lady Sarah,” Didymus said, “wouldst thou introduce us to thy friend?”

“Oh, him?” She held out the bunny. “This is Freddie.”

“Cuuuute!” Ludo exclaimed, caressing one of his gigantic fingers through Freddie’s soft fur. Hoggle and Didymus came closer and began cooing at the rabbit.

“I know, right?” Sarah beamed. “I can’t believe Jareth let me have him. All I have to do is run the Labyrinth again.”

Hoggle stopped short. “Wait. That no-good rat gave you this bunny? And you took it from him?” He rubbed a hand over his wrinkled face. “After he gave you that peach? Gah!”

Sarah glowered at the dwarf. Why was everyone calling her judgment into question? Sure, she had missed the whole “my hot neighbor plays for the other team” thing, but it wasn’t like she had gaydar.

“What’d he say about the bunny when he gave it to you?” Hoggle asked, crossing his arms.

“I don’t know. That Freddie’s just a bunny.”

Hoggle gave her a flat stare. “Nothing else?”

“Um…” Sarah wracked her brain. As soon as Jareth had showed her the adorable little furball, she only half-listened to him. “Something about being able to see the plot of this story…and not getting Freddie wet. I think there’s another rule too, but he couldn’t remember.”

Hoggle threw his hands in the air. “Of all the—!” He paced, grumbling incoherently.

Sarah turned to Didymus and Ludo. “What’s wrong?”  
“Methinks, my lady, thou hast accepted a Plot Bunny from His Grace.” Didymus shook his head. “The only hare more dangerous is the foul creature that guards the Cave of Kyre Banorg.”

“But he’s harmless!” Sarah held the bunny protectively. “Aren’t you, Freddie?”

“Oh, you say that now,” Hoggle muttered with a sour expression. “He only _looks_ harmless because I’m bettin’ he’s a Vanilla Plot Bunny.” He sighed. “We’re just gonna have to hope that’s what he is. Don’t get him wet and DON’T feed him after midnight!”

Ludo bobbed his massive head in agreement.

“Okay, okay. Whatever.” Sarah gave her bunny a snuggle. “You’re a sweet little Plot Bunny, aren’t you? You wouldn’t hurt wittle old me?” She looked up and found the others staring at her. “What?”

“You really don’t get how dangerous that thing is.” Hoggle covered his eyes with a groan. “We’re doomed.”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby.” Sarah rolled her eyes as she walked toward the Labyrinth wall. “Open sesame!”

The massive gates appeared and swung open. But instead of admitting entry into the maze, a cave glittering with an enormous stash of gold and jewels lay before them. Hoggle’s eyes nearly left his head.

“No, that’s not right,” Sarah muttered. “Close sesame!”

“Wait!” Hoggle yelled, dashing toward the gates. “Just let me grab a few things!”

Ludo lifted Hoggle by his collar, the little dwarf’s legs spinning beneath as he screeched, “Open sesame! Open sesame!”

The gates closed and dissipated, and Hoggle hung dejectedly. Ludo set him down gently, petting him on the head. “Hoggle sad,” the great beast said.

Hoggle swatted Ludo’s hand away. “I’m _not_ sad. Leave me alone, you overgrown rug.”

Sarah, however, had missed most of the ordeal and was, instead, talking to Freddie. “I can’t remember what the right words are. How do I get into the Labyrinth?”

Suddenly the gates appeared again, and as they opened, Hoggle’s expression grew hopeful—only to fall when the walls of the maze were revealed on the other side.

Sarah grinned at her companions. “Well, are you coming?”

Ludo nodded. Hoggle groused, but stood. Sir Didymus bowed. “But of course, my Lady! We four will join on yet another quest to fight for the right as one!” Ambrosius barked. “Or we five, rather.”

Together, they entered the Labyrinth. As before, both directions seemed to go on endlessly without twists or turns.

“Last time, I went right,” Sarah said, “and it took me ten hours to conquer this thing. I’ve only got half that—less than half, actually. So, left it is!” She took off at a dead run, holding Freddie close to her chest.

“But my Lady—!” Didymus called after her.

Sarah made it twenty feet when she slammed against a barrier, the force of the collision landing her hard on her butt. Fortunately, Freddie seemed unharmed. She was able to keep a hold on the little furball. Sarah looked up and realized what had appeared as an infinite corridor of dilapidated stone walls was actually a painting of an infinite corridor of dilapidated stone walls.

She rubbed her forehead. “That sucks.”

“Art thou injured, my Lady?” Didymus came galloping up on Ambrosius. “I did attempt to warn thee.”

“I’m fine.” Sarah rose, dusting herself off with her free hand. Freddie squirmed against her chest. “Just take me to the worm.”


	2. Two

“Allo!” the worm said cheerfully when the five stepped up to him. He cocked his head, looking at Sarah. “Oh, s’you again.”

Sarah grinned. “Yep. I’m back.”

“You want to come inside and have a cuppa tea? Meet the missus?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Sarah gave him an apologetic smile. “I do feel bad that I never asked your name before, though.”

The worm’s grin broadened. “Why it’s William, is what it is. That’s awfully nice of you to inquire. Why don’t you all come inside, have some tea?”

Hoggle grunted. “And how are we supposed to fit into that hole?” He pointed to the tiny opening beside William.

“Dunno,” William bobbed his head to the side in what looked like a shrug. “It’s your job to figure that out. I’m only supposed to invite you. Good manners, an’ all.”

“Has anyone ever taken you up on that offer?” Hoggle crossed his arms over his chest, scowling at the little creature.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “I’m kinda in a hurry, guys. Can you save your argument for later?” She glowered at Hoggle when he started to protest. Once he backed down, she turned to William. “I’ve got to get through the Labyrinth in four hours.”

“Three hours and thirty-eight minutes,” Didymus interjected helpfully.

“Whatever.” Sarah waved him off, turning back to the worm. “Can you tell me which way to go?”

William screwed his tiny features up in a pensive expression. “Well, that’s the existential question, innit? It’s like Nietzsche says: ‘You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.’”

Sarah shook her head. “But Galileo says, ‘All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them.’”

“Good point, good point.” The worm nodded. “But when you get down to it, ‘It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop.’ That’s Confucius, all right.”

Sarah threw up a hand in the air, still cradling Freddie close to her chest. “But it _does_ matter how slowly I go. If I want to succeed in smacking Jareth down again, I’ve got to get through this maze in four hours!”

“Three hours and thirty-six minutes,” Didymus piped in cheerfully.

“Whatever!” She glared at the fox until he shrank back. “Which way? That’s a simple question with a simple answer!” She felt the heavy hand of Ludo fall on her shoulder.

He gave her a gentle squeeze and said, “’Judge a man by his questions rather than by his answers.’”

All eyes turned to the gentle giant. Sarah’s mouth fell open. “Did you…just quote Voltaire?”

Ludo glanced at each of them in turn, his head dropping to his chest. “Oops. Sawah friend.”

“Three hours and thirty-four minutes, my lady.”

Didymus’s proclamation broke Sarah out of her shock. She turned to William. “Just tell me which way to go.”

William did his lop-sided head-bob again. “As Socrates says, ‘I know nothing except the fact of my ignorance.’”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Hoggle shook his head. “You gets in there.” He pointed to the wall opposite William. “It’s an illusion. Walk forward and turn left.”

“Never go that way!” William cried out. “Are you trying to lead her straight to that castle?”

Sarah’s stomach dropped. “What did you say?”

“Yes,” Hoggle interjected, “as a matter of fact, we are.”

Sarah barely heard her friend’s words as her face grew hot with anger. “Are you telling me that you kept me from taking a shortcut through the Labyrinth last time?” She lunged forward, ready to squash the horrible little creature, but Ludo held her back. “Do you have any idea what I went through!?”

“Now, now,” said William, a quiver in his voice as he scooted back, “it’s like what Confucius taught: ‘Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.’”

Sarah struggled against Ludo. “Oh, I’ll dig a grave, all right!”

“Uh, my lady,” Didymus said, “perhaps thy vengeance upon this poor fool should be reserved until after His Majesty has been vanquished.”

Sarah narrowed her eyes, but stopped fighting Ludo. The fox was right; she didn’t have time for a fight.

“Fine,” she said, shrugging off Ludo’s massive arms. She backed toward the opening, still giving the little traitor the evil eye. “Why don’t you suck on some Nietzsche: ‘I’m not upset that you lied to me. I’m upset that from now on I can’t believe you.’” She spat at him before following Hoggle down the path.

The sun was setting on the horizon, careless of the debate below (though he was rather inclined toward Galileo, himself).

* * *

After what had seemed hours—which had only been thirty minutes according to Didymus’s annoying updates—the long corridor finally broke into a beautiful enclosed garden. Sarah had only seen the like in photographs of royal grounds.

“Wow! Is this Jareth’s?” she asked, inhaling the fragrance of the multi-colored blossoms blanketing the walls. Everything was so vibrant—even in the waning evening light.

“No.” Hoggle scowled. “This is my property.” He nodded toward a sturdy, well-built shack on the far side of the gardens.

Sarah stared at her bedraggled, warty friend and readjusted her opinion of him. “It’s not what I expected.” The words were out of her mouth before she could think better of them.

Hoggle glared at her. “What? You thought it would be all filthy like those no-good goblins?”

Sarah cringed, but she didn’t deny it. Hoggle threw his hands in the air and stormed off, muttering under his breath. Before Sarah could utter an apology, she was interrupted by a wet hissing sound. Hoggle spun around, eyes wide with horror as automatic sprinklers popped up from the ground, showering the earth with water. He barreled toward Sarah, yelling at the top of his lungs.

“NO!” He slammed into her, knocking her over.

Freddie flew from her arms—quite gracefully for a rabbit—straight into the center of the offending water. Sir Didymus and Ludo dashed toward the little creature, but Freddie darted away from their grasping hands. Sarah watched the scene with no small amount of fear, wondering what grim fate would befall her sweet bunny.

“We’re in for it now,” Hoggle muttered as he sagged against the ground, running a wrinkled hand over his face.

Sarah started to ask her friend to elaborate when she was drowned out by the sound of several dozen pops. In bursts of glitter, bunnies of various shapes and colors appeared all over the garden, under hedges, inside of rose bushes, on top of Ludo’s head.

_This_ had been Hoggle’s fear? Adorable bunnies everywhere? Hardly frightening, Sarah thought. She was rather delighted to be surrounded by so many of the fluffy little things.

“Best run through the Labyrinth ever!” she squealed, picking up the nearest bunny. It was a beautiful charcoal grey color.

As soon as her fingertips brushed its soft fur, the temperature plummeted and dark clouds rumbled in from the direction of the castle. Sarah was vaguely aware of Hoggle hollering something about not touching any of the bunnies, but she was transfixed by the fog rolling down the pathway toward them.

“Drop the rabbit!” Hoggle yelled next to her, terror quaking in his voice.

“What?” Sarah said, startled out of her daze.

“Milady,” Didymus interjected, “thou holdest in thy hands a dark plot bunny. I fear this tale will now take an ominous turn.”

As though to punctuate his statement, piano music filled the air, urgent and sinister. A figure slowly descended on them, obscured by the thick fog. Sarah shivered, her heart galloping like a wild horse. The bunny tumbled from her hands as she scrambled to her feet, backing away. Snowflakes drifted lazily down around her.

The music grew louder as the figure drew near. Sarah could make out Jareth’s features as he began to emerge from the mist and he was not the Goblin King she knew. Gone was the playful smirk he always wore, replaced by a cold, impassive mask. His head was crowned by a ring of winking stars.

“Erlkönig,” Ludo murmured.

“What?” Sarah asked, mesmerized by Jareth as he advanced in languid step.

“We ain’t supposed to be in stories like this,” Hoggle replied. “We keep most stories family-friendly. This ain’t one of those.”

Sarah swallowed thickly. What happened to _her_ in dark stories? She really didn’t want to stick around to find out. “I dropped the bunny,” she said in a desperate whisper. “Why isn’t any of this changing?”

“’Nother bunny,” Ludo answered.

“Why, yes! My brother, Sir Ludo, speaks the truth!” Didymus exclaimed. “You must choose another plot bunny to change the course of this tale!”

“Find Freddie!” Hoggle grabbed Sarah’s arm and dragged her away from the approaching Goblin King.

Sarah tripped over her feet and fell hard again on her already sore butt. (As you might recall, she already injured her poor derriere when she ran headlong into a wall in the previous chapter.) Immediately Jareth was upon her, helping her stand. The gesture appeared chivalrous, but there was something in his eyes, cold and alien, that made Sarah shrink from him.

“You have hurt yourself,” he said in a quiet voice as he came closer, chilling the air even more with his frosted breath. “I will curse the ground for daring to injure my lady.”

Sarah glanced at his glowing crown and did a double-take. “Are those Christmas tree lights?”

Jareth’s eyes darkened in response and she stepped back.

Hoggle groaned, muttering something about idiot girls. “Run!”

Sarah didn’t need to be told twice. She shot off, almost forgetting to look for another, less-ominous bunny. Everything was lumpy shadows in the mist and swirling snow, and Sarah thought she saw a horseman riding by with a cat in his arms. “What was that?” she said, just before her shins banged into something hard, pitching her head over heels into a shallow depression in the ground.

“Ow,” she moaned, feeling like she had enough of falling down, thank you very much. She sat up, searching for the offending item which had cut off her escape. Her mouth hung open when she found it. “A fog machine? Seriously?”

Jareth was upon her again, his laughter sending chills down her spine. “I should have known it would not be this easy,” he murmured, drawing a frigid finger across her jaw. He was terrifying, but at the same time, those Christmas tree lights twinkling around his head were ridiculous.

“Hello, no!” Sarah stood and ran away—or at least tried to. She didn’t even make it one step before performing a full-on face-plant. (Sir Didymus was inclined to give her a perfect score for the flop, but Hoggle felt he was being too generous.)

“You have got to be freaking kidding me!” Sarah screamed as she spun around. “Why do I keep falling down?”

“Because that is how I seduce you in this story,” Jareth answered above her. “You come to harm— several times, in fact—and as you lay bleeding, I make my move. Not to mention the disturbing and incomprehensible visions I give you.” He flung open his cloak, revealing two dark-haired Children-of-the-Corn girls, a caged bird, and red ribbons.

Sarah shook her head. “That is so wrong.”

Jareth canted a brow, gazing down at her with his disconcerting eyes. “Perhaps. And yet, our author finds the tale oddly compelling, as many others do. I am rather fond of it, myself.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw a flash of white fur wandering within arm’s reach. “Freddie,” she whispered hopefully. Before reaching for the bunny, she turned to Jareth. “Count me out, buddy!” With dramatic flair, she grabbed the ball of fur and clutched it to her chest.

The fog and clouds receded rapidly as if blown away by an unfelt wind. Even though it was full dark now, the air turned warm and inviting. Jareth vanished and Sarah blew out a sigh of relief.

“I’m so glad I found you,” she said, holding the little animal up to inspect him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t her beloved Freddie; this rabbit’s fur was longer and fluffy. Very, very fluffy. Sarah frowned in disappointment. At least the bunny was white. That meant a vanilla plot, right?

She glanced around the garden and found Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus standing over her, apparently unfazed by the dark plot they had narrowly avoided.

Hoggle held out a hand to help her up. “Top o’ the morning to ya, miss.”

Sarah stared at him. Did he just speak with an Irish accent? “Morning?” She looked up at the night sky glittering with stars.

“Well, ‘tis morning somewhere.” He chuckled at his own joke.

Sarah didn’t find it funny. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked Didymus.

The little fox shook his head. “Methinks thouest hare isest thouest tribulationaries and such things.” He waved his rapier toward the bunny in her arms. “The plot thickenest with thouest fluffestry forthwith.”

Sarah blinked at him. “What?” She turned helplessly to Ludo who merely shrugged.

“I believe he was referring to your fluffy plot bunny.” Jareth had returned and was leaning against Hoggle’s modest shack. He gave Sarah a disarming smile—nothing like the cold and frightening Goblin King he had been but moments before. Pushing off the wall, he said, “Sarah, may I have a word with you?”

“Um,” she said, instinctively backing away. She didn’t trust any version of Jareth—especially if he was being polite. “I kinda have to get going—so I can beat you and all.”

Jareth nodded. “Of course. I wouldn’t think of interrupting your run. Would you mind too terribly if I, perhaps, accompanied you for a while?”

She looked him over with narrowed eyes. “I’m not in the mood for any of your tricks.”

He laughed, and it was wholly unfettered. “I suppose I deserve that. I promise, no tricks,” he said, holding out his hands. “Please, give me this opportunity to redeem myself.”

“I’m still beating this Labyrinth.” Sarah crossed her arms over the bunny. “As long as you don’t interfere with that, you can come along.” She walked past her friends and murmured, “Keep an eye on him, will you?”

“Thouest mayeth counteth onest me, Lady Sarah,” Didymus replied, bringing the hilt of his rapier to his chest in a rousing salute. “The Goblin King matcheth not I, the valiant knight of valorestry!”

Sarah groaned, shaking her head. “I understood, like, three words of what you just said.”

“Aw, don’t be down in the mouth, miss,” Hoggle replied, patting her arm. “He’s a bit out o’ character, that’s all. Nothing doing. You’ll find your little friend, Freddie, and everything will be right as rain again. Right as rain, I promise you.”

Sarah threw a hand in the air in exasperation. “I don’t even know what that accent was! Why are you all acting so crazy?”

“It’s your fine friend here,” Jareth answered, plucking the rabbit from her arms and examining it. “I’m fairly certain it’s an OOC plot bunny.”

“An OO-what bunny?” Sarah asked. She didn’t try to take the creature back; it wasn’t Freddie, after all.

“Outest of Characterest hare,” said Didymus. “We musteth all behavioreth differientately from ourest characterestry verity.”

Sarah held up a hand. “Seriously not helpful. Just…don’t talk. At all.”

Didymus bowed. “As my lady wishesteth.”

“You know what?” Sarah waved her arms, stepping back from all of them. “I don’t have time for this. You three,” she said, pointing at her friends, “come with me—and don’t say a word until I find Freddie.” She jabbed a finger toward Jareth. “And you, stop being so damn polite. You’re weirding me out.”

Without looking to see if anyone followed, Sarah stalked down the path. She kept her eyes peeled for a little white bunny.

“It was not my intention to ‘weird you out,’” Jareth said, keeping pace with her. “I feel compelled, however, to speak with you. I want to apologize for my less-than-civil behavior toward you when you wished away your brother. And for stealing your cat more recently.”

Sarah wanted to scream. “First of all: Not. My. Cat.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “And second: what’s with the Mr. Nice Guy routine?”

Jareth tapped his chin. “It could be the plot bunny, of course,” he said, nodding toward the rabbit in his hand. He set the creature down and watched it hop away. “But I’d like to think you are witnessing the gentle heart I’ve kept hidden under this villainous exterior.” He clasped Sarah’s hands, a single tear trickling down his cheek. “Oh, beloved, if you only knew how lonely my existence is—how I’ve wept every day since you turned me away. Please reconsider my offer. I’ll give you everything you could possibly want!”

Sarah snatched her hands back. “Okay, you are so unsexy like this.”

“Aye,” Hoggle said. “He be worse than a mindless wench pining after some scalawag.”

Sarah glared at the dwarf. “Pirate, now? Really?” She needed a bunny—_any_ bunny would do. A couple more hours of this OO-whatever thing and she’d murder them all. A grey and cream colored rabbit hopped across her path in that instant as if in answer to her silent pleas.

“It’s been a laugh with you all acting nuts,” she said, leaning over, “but I think I’ll take something different, now. Thanks.” She picked up the rabbit.

Jareth disappeared as the fog rolled in again. The sounds of motorcycles could be heard in the distance, and they were growing closer with frightening speed.

“That can’t be good,” Sarah said, letting the bunny go.

“You got that right,” Hoggle grumbled, sounding entirely like himself again. “We better move fast—and this time don’t trip over those fog machines.”

“Two hours and forty-two minutes,” said Sir Didymus to no one in particular as they ran.


	3. Three

As they ran, Sarah heard a voice calling her name, taunting and menacing. It wasn’t Jareth’s voice. This one was deeper, gravelly, and very American.

“Who’s that!?” Sarah yelled as she carefully leapt over a fog machine.

“What’d the bunny look like?” Hoggle caught up to her and was huffing with every step.

“I don’t know! Grey and white or something?”

“Crossover!” Ludo yelled.

“It is where two tales intertwine, milady,” Didymus answered Sarah’s unspoken question.

Before Sarah could ask what other tale this might be, four young men on motorcycles emerged from the mist, circling around Sarah and her friends. Their maniacal laughter could be heard over the revving engines, and Sarah resisted the urge to hide behind Ludo. Ambrosius whimpered.

The motorcycle gang finally came to a stop. Each of them looked like they had just stepped out of an 80’s movie, dressed in garish colors and sporting mullets. The leader had blond, spiky hair which cascaded down his back. He smirked at Sarah, holding out his hand.

“Sarah,” he said, pulling an antique wine bottle from his leather jacket, “become one of us.”

“One of who?” She backed away, searching her periphery for another bunny.

“One of the Lost Boys,” he said as if she should know what that meant. “I’m David.”

“Well, David, I don’t think I qualify—seeing how I’m a girl.”

David shrugged. “Do you have a motorcycle?”

Sarah shook her head.

“Interested in leaping off bridges?”

“Pass.”

David narrowed his eyes, his smirk changing to something malicious and predatory. “I guess you’ll just have to be food instead.”

As soon as he said the words, his face transformed. Grotesque ridges appeared on his forehead, and he flashed pointed vampire teeth. The others of his gang growled in response, and Sarah was almost more scared of them than she’d been of Erlkönig Jareth. There were no Christmas tree lights to soften her mounting terror this time.

And then one of the vampires suddenly convulsed as a stake protruded from his chest. He tore at the fence post and collapsed to the ground. Two young teenage boys stood behind him, holding more weapons.

“We fight for truth, justice, and the American way!” one of them shouted. He turned to Sarah and her friends. “You better leave this to the professionals, ma’am.” With a feral yell, he aimed a squirt gun at the other vampires and ran headlong toward them.

Sarah shared a look with Hoggle, Didymus, and Ludo and by mutual, unspoken decision they skirted around the battle and ran down the path. In the back of her mind, Sarah thought it was probably a bad idea to leave adolescents to deal with the undead, but she really wanted to beat Jareth. And find Freddie.

She glanced back at the fray, and to her horror, found David flying toward her, roaring like the monster he was. Just before he was in reach, Jareth appeared between them, holding up his hand.

“Mine!” he commanded, and David jerked to an abrupt halt. Jareth spun around. “You’ll have to forgive my boys. They just need a little discipline—a mother.” He smiled, revealing his own set of very pointy pearly whites.

Sarah screamed and ran faster down the path, only to tumble down a hole. Halfway through her decent, she was caught by hands—Helping Hands. Very _handsy_ Helping Hands.

“Well, you’ve grown up quite nicely” a pair of hands said as another set pinched her rear.

She smacked them away. “Stop that, you pervy hands!”

“She said ‘stop,’” another pair of hands said gleefully. Others laughed as she was suddenly released—and felt up all during every inch of her descent.

Sarah landed in the dark oubliette on her butt. “Crap.”

“Art thou injured, milady?” Didymus called down to her.

“I’ll live,” she muttered. “How do I get out of here?”

“Find the door” Hoggle answered. The Helping Hands mimicked him in playful echoes.

Sarah scoured the floor and walls with her hands in search of some kind of exit. There was nothing but dirt and mildewy rock. Jareth had probably gotten smart after her last run and removed the tricky door from the oubliette.

“I can’t find anything!” she yelled. The Helping Hands made a mocking echo, and Sarah snapped. “You know, that’s getting really annoying!”

“That’s getting really annoying!” repeated a set of hands in a nasally voice.

“If you don’t stop that,” Sarah warned, “so help me, I will find Jareth, marry the bastard, and my first act as Goblin Queen will be to send someone with a flamethrower to burn the sass right out of you!”

“Yeah, like you’d really do it,” the Helping Hands replied with a round of mocking laughter.

“Jareth told me once that I’d never beat his Labyrinth.” Sarah planted her hands on her hips and glared up the hole. “And I tore his freaking castle down. I was only fifteen then. Imagine what I can do now.”

There was nary but the sound of motorcycles in the distance. Sarah would have felt triumphant, but she was still stuck in the oubliette with no way out.

Just when she despaired that she might actually lose to the king of the goblins, she felt something brush against her legs. A bunny! She was reticent at first to touch it—it was too dark in the oubliette to make out the rabbit’s color—but then decided that any plot was better than this one. Besides, those motorcycles were growing louder, and vampire Jareth was scary as hell.

As soon as she picked up the little furball, the rumbling of motorcycle engines disappeared, and Sarah sighed in relief. She examined her new plot bunny in the dim light and was chagrined that it wasn’t Freddie. This creature was a beautiful shade of brown, like rich dark chocolate.

“I don’t suppose you know the way out of here?” she asked the thing. It stared back at her with large dark eyes.

“Milady?” Didymus called down in a hesitant voice.

“I found another bunny,” Sarah answered, “but I don’t know what kind it is.”

“I do. It’s time for lemons.”

Sarah leapt at the sound of Jareth’s purring voice just behind her. She spun around and found the Goblin King looking her over like she was a feast he was about to devour. He wore a loose black shirt that was open to his navel, revealing a fit pale chest, and of course, his ridiculously tight pants—which revealed more than Sarah ever wanted to know about the correlation between shoe size and reproductive organs. Jareth tilted his head, obviously enjoying her appraisal of him. Some breeze came out of nowhere, tousling his fair hair and rippling his silky shirt making him look like a model for the cover of a romance novel.

“Please tell me you’re not a vampire still,” Sarah said, taking a step back.

Jareth laughed. “Not a vampire,” he replied in a voice so sultry, it should have been illegal, “but I do like to _bite_.”

He advanced on her with a lecherous smile. “Welcome, Sarah, to my Red Room of Pain.”

“Your what of what?” Sarah gulped as she retreated from him.

The oubliette morphed into a crimson boudoir with a sturdy looking bed in the center. On the walls and hanging from the ceiling were contraptions and apparatuses—whips, chains, and leather—that made her shiver. She took it back; vampire Jareth wasn’t that scary at all. This was way worse—because a part of her was just the teensiest bit turned on.

“So, BDSM, huh?” she said with another swallow. “I don’t think I ever figured you for that.”

Jareth chuckled darkly. “The riding crop didn’t give it away?” He held up the leather scepter.

Sarah’s back touched the wall and her heart stopped. “Help,” she squeaked.

“Find another bunny!” Hoggle yelled down to her.

She surveyed the room, but the only rabbit to be seen was the one in her arms—which she dropped immediately.

“First,” Jareth said, caressing her cheek with the riding crop, “I will take your virginity with vanilla sex— which I, personally, have never experienced before. Then I will get you drunk and make you sign this contract.” A scroll appeared in his other hand, and as he shook it open, the parchment rolled to the floor and several feet beyond.

“You’ll see I’ve made many ludicrous stipulations—including, but not limited to, your exercise regime, diet, and the clothes you wear.” Somehow he made this sound both revolting and sexy as hell. “And then we shall proceed to engage in a lifestyle that in no way shape or form resembles anything healthy or true to actual BDSM.”

_Yes, yes, yes, please!_ tittered Sarah’s Inner Goddess. Inner Goddess? When did she get one of those?

“There are two problems with your little scenario,” Sarah said in an attempt to ignore that irritating inner voice, which had now gone into fits of glee over what Jareth might do to her “down there.”

Jareth nodded for her to go on, though he looked as if it took every ounce of his strength not to ravish her on the spot.

_Let him!_ the Goddess of Inner Idiocy begged.

“First,” Sarah continued, “I’m not really all that into kinks involving pain.”

Jareth dismissed her statement with the wave of his crop-wielding hand. “Inconsequential. You’ll take what I do to you with my riding crop. And. You. Will. Like. It.”

_Oh. Em. Gee._ Sexiest thing said by a man ever! squealed Sarah’s Inner Idiot. If that voice had physical form, Sarah would have smacked some smarts into it.

“That sounds disturbingly nonconsensual.” Sarah glared at him despite the heat growing in her middle thanks to the Voice of Nonsense.

Jareth shrugged. “I did say that none of this would be healthy, but it was oddly popular with the average female reader—or so the book sales indicated,” he said. “What of your second problem.”

“I’m not a virgin.” Sarah crossed her arms smugly. There. Suck on that, buddy.

Jareth’s eyes widened at her confession. “You _dare_ let another man touch you?” Suddenly the cuckoo clock appeared at his shoulder. “For your insolence, you lose one hour and thirty minutes.” The minute hand on the clock spun in response.

“Hey! You can’t do that!” Sarah yelled.

“I do what I want in any incarnation. Haven’t you learned that yet?” Jareth returned, smirking. “Now kindly bend over so I can spank you.”

_Happily!_ Her Inner Goddess clapped with asinine delight. “Oh, SHUT UP!” Sarah clamped her hands over her ears.

“Sawah?” Ludo hollered down.

“What hath transpired, milady?” Didymus asked.

“Hast thou found another bunny?”

“No!” Sarah answered. “There’s only the romance bunny from hell!”

Hoggle grumbled something unintelligible before dropping another rabbit down the hole. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya!” he yelled.

The creature that landed at Sarah’s feet was half-starved and mottled with differing shades of brown. She had never seen a more sickly animal in her life.

“No!” Jareth backed away, stricken with horror. “I beg you not to take it!”

That was all the motivation Sarah needed. She snatched the rabbit and was instantaneously transported from the oubliette-turned-boudoir to the cobblestones above. Didymus and Ludo cheered, and even Ambrosius seemed pleased to see her.

“Where’s Hoggle?” Sarah asked after a round of hugs. Thankfully, it appeared that her Inner Goddess had vanished with the bunny change.

Both Ludo and Didymus looked suddenly pained. Ambrosius hid his head beneath his paw. No one was willing to answer her question, but then Jareth’s voice echoed up the tunnel of Helping Hands.

“Hogbrain, you will strip me down and have your wicked way with me, or I’ll dip you head first in the Bog of Eternal Stench!”

“Did he just—?” Bile rose in Sarah’s throat.

“Yea, milady,” Didymus answered sadly. “Verily hath our friend become the victim of the most devious plot ever contrived by the fan fiction writers of this realm. ‘Tis a Jargle bunny.”

“You mean…” Sarah sputtered. “Jareth and Hoggle…” She made a vague motion with her hands indicating some unsightly form of copulation.

“Slash,” Ludo interjected, bobbing his head. “Jargle bad.”

“I wondered what he meant by ‘not gay at the moment.’” Sarah felt strangely detached, baffled that any writer would inflict this on either Jareth or Hoggle—including the writer of this story.

“Come, come now, Hogsbreath!” Jareth said below. “Stop delaying. Your king commands you!”

“Quit standing around and find another bunny, Sarah!” Hoggle shouted in desperation.

His plea snapped her out of her daze. “Right! Bunny!” She glanced around, but there wasn’t a furry critter to be seen. “Fight it as long as you can, Hoggle!” Sarah dashed off down the path with Didymus and Ludo in tow.

They didn’t come across a single bunny, and Sarah wondered what happened to the horde of rabbits that were all over the Labyrinth. She thought maybe they ought to head back to Hoggle’s garden, but decided to press forward when the Goblin City loomed ahead. There was a flash of white fur just inside the open gates, and Sarah chased after it.

She came to an abrupt halt just inside the walls, mouth falling open. Every bunny must have converged on the city. There were hundreds of them hopping about beneath the night sky. Several had fur in impossible colors—lime green, cornflower blue, lavender, orange. She reached for a tie-dyed one, but Didymus stopped her.

“Nay, milady!” he exclaimed. “Abstain from the Alternate Universe bunny, I beg thee. Some are tame contrivances, such as an unabashed and poor imitation of 'Pride and Prejudice.' But others are far less benign.”

For a minute, Sarah was tempted to grab the psychedelic colored rabbit anyway, just to see what would happen, but then she remembered Hoggle. “So, we need Freddie—or at least a white-ish rabbit.” Not one that was too fluffy, though. Sarah hadn’t forgotten the OOC bunny episode.

And there one was hopping across Sarah’s path. It wasn’t pure white, but eggshell—the color that the walls of most rentals were painted. Sarah shrugged and scooped it up.

“Took you long enough!” Hoggle growled when he appeared suddenly with the group. The dwarf looked haggard, his eyes haunted.

“What happened?” Sarah asked with a shudder. “What did he do to you?”

Hoggle grumbled incoherently for a bit before finally snapping, “What happens in the oubliette stays in the oubliette!”

Didymus nodded gravely. “’Tis true. It is the unspoken law of the Labyrinth.”

Considering what she had just learned about the Jargle bunny, Sarah was in full support of this law. “So,” she said, changing the subject, “we’re in the Goblin City. Which means, I’m about to beat Jareth. Again.”

Hoggle’s face ticked at Jareth’s name, but he pumped his fist in the air. “Let’s go take that rat down.”

“Bunny food,” Ludo supplied.

Everyone stared at the giant, trying to make sense of his statement. Didymus spoke first. “I fear we misunderstand you, brother. Do you wish for our king to become fodder for the hares?”

Ludo shook his big head and waved an arm toward the multitude of rabbits. “Bunny food.”

Sarah stared at the swarm of fur and cuteness, not understanding at first. Then she noticed that several were noshing on produce that had been left outside of some kind of market. “Oh! I think Ludo means the bunnies are eating.”

“Eating!” Hoggle shouted, throwing his hands in the air.

“Fear not, friend Hoggle.” Didymus put a calming paw on the dwarf’s shoulder. “It is not yet midnight. We are free from harm.”

One of the feeding bunnies began to quake and expand, as if in counterpoint to Didymus’s statement. With a sick feeling, Sarah recalled something very important. “Actually,” she said, taking an unconscious step back, “Jareth kinda stole an hour and a half from me.”

“WHAT!” Hoggle’s eyes bugged out.

Didymus continued to pat Hoggle’s shoulder, but with his free hand, he unsheathed his rapier. “I believe what my friend means to say is—”

“Run!” Ludo finished for him before lumbering off toward the castle.

Sarah didn’t need to be told twice. She took off like a bat out of hell, terrified of what new horror she had inadvertently unleashed.


End file.
